Two months. Two months until graduation. Two months of being a Blue Devil. Two months of calculus, chemistry, and ceramics. Two months until I quit being a senior and start being a freshman again. Two months until summer. Two months until I'm free.
Two. Whole. Months. This length of time has never looked so long. Perhaps you have heard tell of a disease which infects the minds of those wanting to move to the next stage in life? One that makes focus difficult, homework look insignificant, and apathy toward rules abound? Yep, I've got it - got it bad. Aside from the friendships I've found here, field hockey is what I will miss most about high school, and now that that is over for good, I've got nothing holding me down.
I've always been one to look ahead toward things to come. My poor, well-meaning mother has attempted on many occasions to get me to slow down and enjoy the moment. Rushing through the present is one pitfall of being gifted with high energy.
Luckily, spring has shown its face. (Granted, it may be wearing the mask of summer, but it came after winter, so spring it is.) Warm weather is one thing that will slow me down and put a smile on my face. Windows all the way down and the radio cranked up, bare feet cooling off in the creek, a campfire with a circle of friends and good conversation: when any or all of these are involved, I will happily reside wholly in a single day - even with two months to go.
So, here I sit: in shorts, by an open window, letting a warm breeze and the sound of spring peepers sooth my impatience.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Albuquerque -Hannah Martin
If you ask me how long it takes to fall in love with a place,
I would tell you ten seconds.
Just long enough to glance out an airplane window.
Long enough to glimpse the mountains, and the desert stretching endlessly out to meet the sky.
Then the plane jolted suddenly, touching down.
And I knew I was home.
To a place I had never been before.
Home, under an infinite blue sky.
Home, with the mountains and the red sand.
And I was in love...
This poem was written by my sister, the lovely Miss Hannah. She recently spent a year living and volunteering in New Mexico.
I would tell you ten seconds.
Just long enough to glance out an airplane window.
Long enough to glimpse the mountains, and the desert stretching endlessly out to meet the sky.
Then the plane jolted suddenly, touching down.
And I knew I was home.
To a place I had never been before.
Home, under an infinite blue sky.
Home, with the mountains and the red sand.
And I was in love...
This poem was written by my sister, the lovely Miss Hannah. She recently spent a year living and volunteering in New Mexico.
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